


Nequizia

by notkai



Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: Blood, Drabble, Guns, Knives, M/M, Murder, Sociopath character, Violence, overuse of medical terms, sexual pleasure from corpses/blood, this is pretty graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 01:30:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10232663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notkai/pseuds/notkai
Summary: It was almost enough to make him feel sorry.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i was having an innocent time, drawing jellyfish and listening to cars driving outside my window, when something inside of me said "u have to write hojoon rn. but with murder." and here we are now

Jeon Hojoon had become well acquainted with the anatomy of a gun. The smooth grip of his .22 fit in the palm of his hand like it was made specially for him, every hill and valley of his flesh pressed against the cold material. The action of swapping out magazines and pulling the trigger was so familiar to his muscles that it might as well have been an instinct like flinching. The sound of shells striking the pavement was a nearly orgasmic. But as much as he loved his gun, Hojoon couldn't deny how incredible the sensation of cutting through the thick sternocleidomastoid muscle of the carotid arteries was, to hear a gurgling wheeze leave his victim as air gushed from their slit trachea. It filled his body with electricity, and the rush was unlike any cut of coke he'd tried.

So, it made sense for him to join an underground network of hitmen and serial arsonists, all functioning like a deadly machine under a man by the name of Park Sehyuk. Hojoon didn't know if that was his real name or an alibi, but he didn't really care. He loved his job. Really, he was lucky, to be able to find a job that would enable him to fill someone with lead _and_ pay his bills. It came with the added bonus of sexual gratification, feeling painfully hard as he licked his victim's blood off of his fingers.

Hojoon had decided to stop pondering the metaphorical vacancy in his thoracic cavity a while ago, right around when he murdered his boyfriend, Yu Sangdo. Sangdo had been one of the sweetest, most generous people Hojoon had ever met. He'd spent many a night watching Sangdo sleeping, wondering how it would feel to crush his trachea beneath his hands. No weapon necessary. But still, he waited. He let pieces of the facade he'd put up fall away, watched Sangdo slowly crumble under the pressure of trying to connect with an emotionless partner. And when the time was right, Hojoon shot him, a clean entry wound right above his left eye. That wasn't a job, though. That was simply something Hojoon had wanted to do.

Right before he killed them, if they weren't sobbing hard enough to render them speechless, people liked to tell Hojoon that he was going to hell, that he would slowly rot away in the most painful way possible, that he would suffer in a manner too complex for his mind to process. His last victim had said that to him, even. A boy with high cheekbones and thin wrists, one whose eyes became impossibly wide and teary as blood pooled in his throat, his face filled with so much fear that it almost made Hojoon feel sorry for him.

Almost. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> "metaphorical vacancy in his thoracic cavity" this is meant to refer to his lack of soul/conscience but i didnt feel like saying that lol


End file.
